Wylde Skye
by mscielo
Summary: The celtic gods are showing their presence more and more. As blood taint the very earth, demons terrorize. Ghosts unrested and haunting. Alien visitors. Zodiac spirits battling master. Chakras within humans becoming extinct. Elves, Pyramids, Cernunnosites, Assassins mage elves, Skeletons, tribal, savage humans all in turmoil for what? Skye never knew until now..


Wylde Skye

Skye: Hazel Tree, Salmon, Monkey Leo

Valley of Hills I

Sounds of spring and carbon steel sliding against one another echoed throughout the forest above. A woman peered out from the side of the Valley of Hills looking out below. Her lean yet muscular build was firm, gripping the inclined earth beneath her feet. She followed the clatter of swords and shouts down into the emerald ravine at the bottom of the hill.

She chuckled, 'humans will never change,' she thought to herself as she squinted her eyes. The gorge at the bottom of the hill stood solitary in blankets of large vibrant hills cascading around it. Warfare was seen at the very foot of the hill. Man against man. Puddles and pools of blood stained the ground. The woman watched the grass die, gasping for air, suffocating underneath the thick blood. Immediately turning a nasty brown color where the dead fell. Caught sight of a man who appeared as a chief warrior walking amongst the carnage and almost rheumatic flow of battle dancing around him. His sword was sheathed, which was pretty ballsy, the woman chuckled again. He did however have his hand on the swords butt, strolling, looking for something. Ignoring the bloodshed around him. The woman took a closer look at the chief. 'There's something about him that would've been handsome without all the unnecessary bodies lying about.' The man had a hood on and so did his men. They were dressed in black and gold, some with masks hiding their noses and mouths but all wore hoods. Pretty distinctive as kinfolk. The chief pushed his hood back, he wore no mask.

Upon his right shoulder, he wore what looked like bone carved into a shell replica of his own shoulder. Its visibly thick leather belt held it together along with his left shoulder cover that was of the same dense leather. Other than the bone shoulder-plate, this brave human only wore knee and elbow guards also out of bone above his clothing. She took a breath when she revert her gaze upward as he took his hood off.

"A Skeleton" she whispered out loud.

His hair was black and shaved on one side with thick talon-like tattoos running all along his skull. The tattoos clawed out from his hair onto his face where it bleed into more ink. Around his temples. Ink surrounding both his eyes. His entire nose. Blacked out cheeks and teeth, inked from cheek to cheek. The man looked like a skeleton with white flesh as muscle. The woman took a breath. She's always heard about the Skeleton kin and saw them regularly when she was younger. She couldn't remember how they looked, just imagined. What she imagined was of a lesser image that what she saw in this man. These men she watched fighting below her, the chief, their appearance alone demanded respect and the atmosphere they brought was in reality intimidating. The Skeletons were savage humans who were taken lightly because of their black inked skins but rode through more battles than any other humans and prevail, without allies. Everyone must have forgotten about the whole reason why their ink, in skeletal design, was so important. So powerful.

The chiefs' eyes lifted from the ground, for the quickest moment and looked straight at the woman. At least 50 miles high, on the large hill distended in front of his men. Standing still she stared back at him, faintly seeing his eyes but knowing they were on her. The chiefs' gaze was cut as he pulled from the woman and rapidly slid his sword out and directly jolted it forward straight through an on-coming foe. He pushed his foot against the corpse's chest to retrieve his blade and looked out of the corner of his eye up the hill. She was gone. He made a low grunt to himself and struck another foe, severing his head clean off with one upward swipe.

The woman continued up the side of the hill, anxious to get to the massive forest that was visible all the way from her town. Paradise Island. She hadn't been traveling for no more than 3 weeks and until she entered the Seacliff Forest, just beyond the Valley of Hills, she would be completely out of sight of the island. Paradise Island was where she spent all of her life. As she climbed, she tried to remember all the foolish reasons why Paradise Island got its name. The people in her town, the natives were all so blind and clueless. Running along the same paths that was built ages and ages ago. Refusing any new changes and progressions yet living miserably doing the same. It was this never ending mindless cycle that made the woman leave. Not even to mention every time you asked someone from Paradise Island why they were stuck in their ways. The answer was always because of god. Because god said.

She wiped her hand across her forehead. Tired from taking little to no rest stops, eager to get to the forest before the 4th week. Now, also before the Skeletons search for more prey.

Although her mother, her father were all in Paradise Island she felt as if she never belonged. She always thought that something was wrong with her, that she was different and everyone knew and acted like she was toward her. She was made fun of when she was younger just by having lighter skin and different eyes. She was also tiny with not an ounce of fat on her body. Just muscle. She didn't look like the medium to heavy weight darker islanders that she grew up around. Her sister, even her beloved sister looked different than her. Her mind ran across her sister. To the woman, her sister was the prettiest woman on the island. Everyone would ask, how is your sister doing? How is her practices, is she seeing anyone? The more she thought of her sister, the more memories seemed to explode in her head. Memories she didn't even know existed. She missed her sister with all her heart and it burned her that she didn't have a chance to say goodbye. She stood still in her tracks, clutching her chest. She had faint tears in her eyes and a heavy heart. She breathed and closed her eyes.

Her sister was a powerful mage, unlike herself. She was so spiritual, so full of life and knowledge. The woman looked up and saw that she was a few steps away from a dolmen, the entrance to the forest. She wished that the two of them would be together in the forest. The forest that they both dreamed of playing around in ever since they were kids. Back on the island, she remembered they would go to the highest point of Atlantis Castles's pointy roof and look across the sea waterway and pass the Valley of Hills to see the forest at the very top. The Seacliff Forest was unlike any other as it spanned from as far as the eye would allow you to see. She smiled as she got closer to the dolmen. Forgiving herself, knowing that her sister is safer than she is.

Her little frame made not a sound as she climbed on top of boulders that interrupted the entrance. Jumping from large swaying rock to another, not showing any sense of fear that the rocks were not sturdy against the slanted hillside. She leapt from a boulder and passed the forests' threshold. The air instantly blew crisper.

Seacliff Forest II


End file.
